


Phoenix

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU in which Malcolm never happened, AU in which Wendy has magical powers, Abusive Parents, F/M, Neverland, dark!Wendy, darlingpan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He makes your blood boil. He fills you with rage to the point where you can't stand it. You hate everything about him – the cold green eyes, the way he raises his eyebrows at you, his arrogant gestures, his egotistic smirk, and the way he'll drive you crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was the smell – fire. It was a smell you were all too familiar with, and it was a smell you associated with bad memories… yet at the same time, you couldn't get enough of it.  
Your eyes fixed on the dirt of the ground, and you raised your head, groggily, trying to examine the area around you. Where were you?  
A second thought came to your mind: Could you remember anything at all?  
You did know that your name was Wendy Darling.  
You also knew that you were sixteen years old.  
But you couldn't quite remember where you were, only that you were equipped with a dagger.  
However, you did remember a lot of other things. Not so much information about yourself, but a lot of random knowledge and memories.

You shakily got to your feet and stood, looking up at the sky, dotted with stars that stained the blank, black canvas.

"Look who's awake." you hear a voice say, behind you. It was male. Young. You whipped round to see nobody was there.

"Who was that?" you asked. You didn't know where you were, but you'd never let them know you were scared. You kept a look of defiance and strength on your face.  
No reply came.

"I'm not going to sit here and waste my time." you stated, turning to walk away, not sure of where you were heading, when a figure appeared in front of you. It was a boy, around seventeen, who sported a green outfit, dark blonde hair, and green eyes... and you couldn't shake the feeling you knew him from somewhere.  
While it startled you, you made sure you didn't jump, and maintained your expression.

He was smirking.

"Seems Wendy-bird is finally awake." he laughed.  
"Seems as though somebody was waiting for me to wake up," you retort. "Who are you?"  
"Me?" he grinned. "So sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Peter."  
You knew that name. Peter… _Pan_. But how?  
"I assume you know my name, Peter."  
"Yes, I do. Welcome to Neverland."

Your grip on the knife's handle tightened when he said the word. _Neverland_.

"I appreciate the welcome." you said, monotonously. "Now if that's all you want…" you began to walk past him.

He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you back.  
"No. It isn't."  
You sighed. Truthfully, you were tired of him. Tired of his games. You were in no mood for this playfulness of his, considering you had a raging headache and aching legs.  
"You don't know where you are. I can't have you navigating Neverland on your own! It's just not _safe_." he hissed. You heard venom in his words, and they made something in your chest twist.

"You should come with me." he said, his tone threatening, as he grabbed your wrist. Instantly, you pushed him backwards into the nearest tree and placed the tip of the blade below his chin.

"You lay a hand on me again, this knife won't just be going under your chin." you threatened.  
He laughed. "I like fire, Birdy."  
"Oh, I don't think you do."  
"Oh, I do. And you've got a lot of that."

You retreated, and he didn't follow. You backed away and began to walk away, but the blackness of the sky seeped into and stole the rest of your vision, and you collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Too much fire can burn a person. Wouldn't you agree?"

You awoke in a cage, lying on your side. It was not very big at all, and made of wood.  
You could hear voices, laughter, in the distance, probably fifty to a hundred or so meters away.  
You sat there for what felt like hours, but was probably only a matter of minutes, absentmindedly fumbling with the ropes that twisted around your wrists. Not because they hurt or because you wanted to be free; truthfully, you didn't. It was just something to do.

You still didn't remember much of your own past, however the hazy memories were becoming clearer. You had images of a fat man in your head – fuzzy, but enough to send chills down your spine. You didn't find the idea of home remotely attractive nor desirable, either.

You sat up and contemplated this for a while, before averting your gaze to the ceiling of the cage above you, your nose grazing the top. It was poorly assembled. Maybe…

You shuffled onto your back and placed your feet on the top of the cage, kicking hard until the ties that held it shut became loose. You continued and lifted the ceiling off, and you heard Pan approaching.

You placed your forearms on the side of the cage, nonchalantly, standing up, and his face fell as he saw you.

"You might want to construct your cages better." you remarked.

He smirked and shook his head.  
"Never mind." he said. "I was letting you out anyway." There was something almost poisonous in his voice – his act of "kindness" filled you with a sense of dread.

He retrieved a cloth from his pocket and moved behind you, beginning to tie it up behind your neck.

"You've put me in a cage, and now you want to gag me?" you snickered, trying to seem casual despite your growing anxiety. "Why, Peter Pan, we've only just met."  
He walked in front of you and looked at you, frowning. "I never told you my last name was Pan." he said. "So how did you know that?"  
You laughed. "I know a lot of things, Peter."

He walked behind you and pulled the cloth up over your mouth, and it became impossible to open your mouth, before pushing you out of the cage and leading you closer to the voices.

You saw a lot of boys, dancing around a fire, however soon stopping in awe as they saw Pan enter the clearing. You knew who they were, but you didn't know how. "The Lost Boys." he confirmed your thoughts.

"Boys!" he announced. "This is our new Wendy-bird. She's going to be joining us tonight."  
The boys snickered, listening to Pan intently.  
"Now." he said. "Why don't we try some… target practice?"

You raised an eyebrow, and he shoved you over to a tall, blonde boy with a scarred face. Throughout Pan's announcement he was looking at you, and he still was.  
"Felix." Pan said. "Make sure she gets a good view."  
Felix grinned and Pan left, his hand lingering on your back before dropping longer than you'd have liked. You could feel where his hand had been on your back, burning through every last layer of your skin and into your body, gnawing at your stomach and chest, and you could feel it plaguing you, refusing to leave.

"So." remarked Felix, grinning. "This is our new Wendy-bird." You said "Wendy-bird?", and though it came out muffled, it was decipherable enough for him to reply "That's what we call all of our… guests. The girls, anyway." he smirked. So it was true. Pan didn't remember your face… but he remembered your name. He remembered Wendy Darling, but he didn't realise you and her were one and the same. 

Felix took your shoulder and lead you forward to see Pan in the middle of the group with a crossbow, aiming it at a young boy, aged six or seven. The boy was crying, and this sent shockwaves through you. The other boys were laughing at him, and Peter was loading up the crossbow.

Your hands trembled in anger, your eyes ablaze. The rope around your wrists disintegrated, turning to ash and falling to the floor. While the sudden feeling of freedom startled you, you were too focused to notice, ripping the gag off your mouth and charging forward.

The campfire in the middle of the clearing flared up abnormally high, and you grabbed Pan and shove him aside, disarming him enough for him to drop the crossbow and for you to punch him in the face, knocking him to the ground, while the rest of the boys looked on, too stunned to do anything.

He touched his nose, bleeding, and looked at you, hatred flaring in his eyes. You turned to the boy.  
"What's your name?" you asked him.  
"M-Michael." he stammered through racked breaths.  
"It's okay, Michael. It's okay. Look, you have to go somewhere safe."  
"B-but… The Shadow never lets you leave, miss." he sobbed.  
You went to respond, but his eyes filled with terror and darted to just above your shoulder, and a millisecond later, Pan grabbed you and threw you against a tree, knocking all of the air out of your lungs in one swift motion.

He kept a hand at your neck, keeping you restrained against the tree while your hands pulled at it, and turned to the Lost Boys.  
" _Go._ " he commanded, and they all turned and hurried away without a second thought. You saw Felix pull Michael away, and began to yell after him, but Peter interrupted your call with a slap.

He turned to you, his face just millimetres from yours, his burning green eyes boring into your brown ones.

"Too much fire can burn a person, don't you agree?" he spat. His nose brushed against yours, which you know was done purposely, but you refused to take your eyes off of his. He was breathing deeply, as were you.  
"That only depends on whether you play with it or not. Have you never heard the saying?" you responded, your words sharp as the knife he wielded in his free hand.  
"Oh, I've heard it. But nobody was ever around to enforce the law."  
"I think that's about to change." you stab. You grabbed his wrist and heard a hiss, as he pulled the hand holding you up by the neck away and you dropped to the ground while he stared at his wrist, yelping in agony.  
The skin was dark pink and already blistering, and you looked onward, before staring at your hands.  
What was this? What had you done? How did you do it?

You reached a shaky hand out to the campfire, which was meters high by this point, and moved your arm downward. The raging fire subsided, until the only thing allowing you to see was the light from the moon.  
Peter was staring at you, the pale light illuminating his face, and his eyes were once again cold, as was his expression. You could see something else, though – almost like concern. He quickly masked the concern with anger and started forward, but before you can react, a pair of hands seized you and pulled you from him and into the darkness of the jungle, where the moon didn't reach.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really shitty, not my best work! Please keep in mind that I'm not happy with it while you read it.

You were being carried over a man's shoulder— you could tell by their breath. You saw no use in struggling, however. They got you away from Pan, and honestly, wherever they took you, things weren't likely to get much worse.

Two things you happened to notice, though:  
1). The man had a hook for a hand.  
 ~~2). He wasn't bad looking~~  
2). Pan wasn't chasing you.

"Sorry," the man started, through deep breaths, his lungs trying to keep up with his pace. "I feel we've gotten off on the wrong foot."  
"I suppose you did save me back there." you commented.  
The man smirked. While you were over his back, you could hear it in the way he blew more air out of his nose and in his voice.

After a moment you were in a clearing similar to the one the Lost Boys were at.  
"Hook!" you heard a woman say. "You got her?"  
He lowered you down to the ground and placed his hands on his hips, panting.  
"Hook, by the way." he said to you.  
"Pleasure." you reply, monotonously.  
"Well, isn't she a peach." remarked a woman with shoulder length brown hair.  
You shot her a look and continued to listen.  
He motioned to the people next to him. "So, uh, _*pant*_ … this is Regina, Emma and Neal."  
"We've got two others but they're off doing god knows what." said Regina, rolling her eyes.

You all soon sat down around the ashes of an old campfire, and the two missing joined you. You learned their names were Mary Margaret and David.  
"Why are all of you here?" you asked. "It isn't safe!"  
"You think we don't know that?" said Regina.  
Emma shot Regina a look, before continuing. "Look, it's Pandora's Box. Pan got it from a ship–" she glared at a sheepish Hook, "–and we need to keep it away from him."  
"That was _not_ my fault." argued Hook, and Emma responded with a roll of the eyes.  
"Isn't that the box in the Greek myths?"  
"That's the one. It contains the most powerful evil in the world, who knows what he'll do with it?"  
"It also contains hope." Regina said. "People will be running to him for safety when he's actually the one causing the evil. Which means he'll have everybody wrapped around his finger."  
"How did he get it?"  
"He snuck onto my ship." said Hook.

You nodded, processing this information.

"What about you?" Neal asked. "Why are you here?"  
"I don't know." you replied. "I really wish I did, but I have no idea. I'm sorry. I think..."  
"What?"  
You sighed. "Well, I think I might be here for the same reason the people that usually come and go are here."  
"What, because of your life at home?"  
"I've only just gotten these memories back, and they're still extremely vague but... yes, I think so..."  
"I suppose that would make sense. It wasn't a shadow who took you, was it?"  
"No, I just… I just woke up here."  
"We should wait until she recovers those memories." Hook stated. "I guess you'll be with us for a while– what was your name again?"  
"I didn't tell you it yet. It's Wendy."

"As in _Wendy-bird?_ " said Emma. You frowned.  
"Yes, I remember one of the boys saying they called all the girls who come here 'Wendy-bird'."  
"Do you know why?" said David.  
"Well..." you started. "I suppose it could be because I knew Peter before this. A long time ago. I only just remembered a while ago."  
They looked at you in confusion.  
"When I was younger, you see, we lived next door to each other, so we kind of grew up together and… we kind of went through a lot of things together, and, well, when he was 11 and I was 10 we moved, and he and I lost touch. But he used to call me Wendy-bird. Maybe it's the first thing he thought of." You sighed. "But he doesn't remember me now. He remembers Wendy Darling, but he hasn't recognised me yet."

"Wait, but if you were that close, surely he'd recognise you." Regina interrupted.  
"You say that, but trying to remember someone from when you were 11 is near impossible anyway, and he also hasn't seen my face at all in six years."  
She rolled her eyes and you tried to remember what happened next.

"This is where it gets kind of difficult to remember, but I think a couple of years later, I heard that Peter got attacked and stabbed… and he died. Peter Pan's dead."  
"That makes no sense—"  
"It does when you think about it. Neverland is in a different plane of some sort, right?"  
The understanding started to creep onto their faces.  
"And his shadow doesn't let the Lost Boys leave, and he hasn't aged past 17, which means he's technically still a child. Maybe that's why he's here."  
"That does make sense." said Emma. "But why would he want Pandora's Box? I mean, unleashing evil into the world isn't going to do anything for him."  
"He's in control, then, I suppose. Most people want power and control, right?"  
"So you're saying Neverland's supposed to be like heaven?" Regina raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Seems more hellish than heavenly to me." she stated sarcastically.  
"Not exactly… I think Pan and the Lost Boys are dead, but not the children who come and go."  
"And it's just children here, right? The oldest person here is Pan and he's only, what, seventeen?" said Mary Margaret.  
"Yes, he is, because I'm sixteen. Maybe it's like a limbo, because it can be escaped, too."

All of you sat in the darkness and frowned, thinking about this theory, trying to find any potential flaws.

"We need to get the box." said Regina, breaking the silence. "There's no point sitting here and debunking what Neverland and it's inhabitants are. Dead or not, they can't just come to our world with the worst of all evils and do god knows what."  
"I don't think it's a good idea right now, his guard is up and he's pretty furious." you said.  
"Look, tomorrow, we'll get the box." said Neal. "But Wendy, you should stay here."  
"What?" you said. "But I can help! I can—"  
" _How_ " said Regina. "You're 16 and you have a knife. What are you going to do?"

An indignant look spread across your face and you cast your hand over the campfire. Lighting it, but only barely.

"I burned him, right before Hook came. I think I can only do it when I'm angry." you said.  
"Right, well, you better be furious tomorrow, because we might need that. Two people casting fire is much handier than one." said Regina. You let out a small laugh, trying to stop your hands from shaking so much.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, you found it near impossible to sleep. Since that experience with Pan you couldn't shake the feeling of impending danger that was settling in your stomach, twisting your chest and shaking your hands. You felt nervous.

You had remembered basically everything, now.  
Your name was Wendy Moira Angela Darling. You were sixteen. You were studying creative writing and psychology at school. You had a dog called Nana.  
But you still didn't know what it was that made you end up in Neverland. You thought it could have been chance, but it could have been the shadow. You didn't remember. Why would you just wake up here for no reason? It seemed that only children should wake up in Neverland.

You had a few cloudy memories, all of which were memories of your home life and family, and you felt like those memories were cloudy because you didn't want to remember them. The memories mainly consisted of a man you assume to have been your father: a fat man, with black hair, who always wore a black suit, and who had an unhealthy obsession with money.  
The image of this man made you furious, and you didn't know why, so you tried not to think about it. Perhaps ignorance was bliss.

Restless, you ended up sitting on one of the logs around the ashes and kindling of the fire, and waited until morning.

The day was uneventful at the camp, consisting of everybody trying to come up with some kind of plan to get the box off of Pan. Regina proposed the idea of magic again and again, however the others brushed it off, to both you and her's mutual annoyance. Wouldn't it be so much quicker to just use magic?

"I think the best thing we could do would be to put the Lost Boys to sleep and get the box." proposed Neal.  
"There are so many faults in that plan I don't even know where to start." said Regina.  
"Regina, it's probably the best option we have." he argued back.

It went on like this for quite some time, until it was finally settled that you would put the Lost Boys to sleep, catch one, and get him to tell you where it is when he awoke.

You rushed through the forest, cautiously as you could, and hid in the trees on the border of the clearing.  
"You know how to do this, right?" said David. Regina looked over at him in disdain.  
"Please."

She cast a hand in the boys' direction and they fell to the floor, limply. She grabbed the first she could and you made your way back to the camp.

Only when you got back did you realise who it was—it was Felix, and he was now bound against a tree.  
Regina awoke him, and Emma was the one to do the interrogation. He would not let a word out… until he turned to you.  
"Look who it is." he quipped. "The Wendy-bird."  
You tried to maintain a straight, uncaring face and stature, but he saw right through you. He just smirked as Emma pulled his face in her direction. "Eyes on me." she commanded, her knife pressed to his neck.

Before she could let another word escape her mouth, the hairs on your neck stood up and you turned immediately. You don't know how you knew — was it the way the air had turned cold? Or the way the gut-wrenching feeling had come back? You instinctively just _knew._ And sure enough, a second later, there he was. Peter Pan.

"Well, well, well. This is no way to treat one of my boys, is it?"  
Emma was quick to react, pushing him against a tree and shoving her knife to his neck. He smirked, but you could see him flinch slightly as the blade threatened to slit his throat.

Her attention turned to his wrist.  
"Nasty burn you've got there." she said. His eyes darted to you, and despite how far away you were, they still burned into yours the same way they did when they were just centimetres from yours.  
"We want the box, Pan. Where is it?" she threatened.  
"You really think I'd tell you?"

She pushed the knife further into his neck, creating a miniscule line of blood, beading, threatening to spill if she cut any deeper, and enough to prove her point.

"You can burn and you can bleed, which means you can die." said Emma. " _Where is it?_ "

It was true. This was Limbo, and Pan could still be killed.

Before she could get another word in, he was gone. You turned to Felix, and he looked straight at you, laughing, before disappearing too.

Next thing you knew, a small cloud of red dust filled the camp, and everyone limply collapsed… everyone except you.  
Before you could even blink, hands clasped around your waist and your mouth, pulling you away from the camp. They had caught you cleverly, pinning your hands in such a way that they could not touch your attacker— you couldn't burn them if you tried. You struggled desperately, kicking and screaming and biting, but to no avail. The hand muffled your screams and barely even flinched when you bit it.

"Oh, Wendy-bird." Peter said. "What are we going to do with you?"


	5. Chapter 5

Pan dragged you to his camp, while you kicked and screamed with all your might. It was hopeless; you knew that. But you needed to at least show Peter that you didn't want to be within 10 miles of him and you wouldn't give up.

Growing tired of your constant struggling, he sighed.  
"You know, Birdy, all you're doing is exhausting yourself."  
You continued, and he followed with a snigger.  
"Suit yourself."

You were halfway there when you eventually gave in. He was stronger than he looked, and you had too little energy to continue.

When you got to his camp, the first thing he did was shove you to the ground and tie up your hands behind your back, before pulling you to your feet.

"So," he said, edging closer to you. You edged backwards, but looked him dead in the eye, as nonchalant as you could, the same way he was looking at you. You were going to play him at his own game. "What do we do with the girl who has too much fire?"  
You backed against a tree, and his eyes gripped on yours, only a few inches away. He was so close to you, if you stood on your tiptoes your foreheads would touch. But there was nothing romantic in his closeness, only intimidation, however your stomach couldn't help but twist, and sickeningly, you couldn't help but enjoy the lack of distance between you.  
"What are you going to do, Peter?" you said flatly, before raising your eyebrows and gasping in mock-fright. "Kill me?"   
"I would, but the fun's only just begun."  
You both spoke to each other in low voices, the closeness hushing you.  
"So, what, you want me to be your plaything for a while before you decide to off me?"  
"Maybe. _If_ I decide to off you."  
"What do you want from me?"  
"You clearly don't know the pleasure of your company, do you?"  
"Don't play games with me, Peter."  
He leaned so his mouth was next to your ear, and you could _hear_ him smirk. You closed your eyes and swallowed.  
"I'm not the one playing games, Wendy-bird."

 

He backs away and sits down on a log.

"You know, I never had the pleasure of learning your name."  
"You said you knew my name."  
He chuckled. "Of course I did. I wanted to make things a little more… personal."  
"Of course you did." you roll your eyes.  
"It's only fair, Birdy. You know my name."  
"I never asked for your name."  
"You're difficult, you know that?"

You walked forward and sat down on the log opposite him.  
"Where are the boys?" you asked.  
He shrugged. "They know I'm dealing with something."  
He started a fire with a wave of his hand.

"Why am I _here_ , Peter?"  
"I thought you were smart enough to realise that you're my prisoner now."  
"No, in Neverland. The shadow didn't bring me here."  
"You'll have to figure it out for yourself, then."  
"I know why you're here."  
He laughed. "Oh, really?"  
"Yeah, really."  
"Why am I here, then?" he averted his attention from the fire and looked at you, smugly, testing you. It infuriated you to no end.  
"I know you're dead, Peter."

For a millisecond, he looked surprised, but covered it up with amusement so quickly you couldn't even be sure if it happened.

"I know you got stabbed."  
"Oh, really?"  
"Right in the side… by a kid named Rumple…" your vision focused on a spot on the ground.  
Since you and Peter grew so far apart, him dying was like having a great aunt you hadn't talked to for years die. It was sad, but because he had no involvement in your life, you got over it pretty quickly. Seeing him the way he was now was like seeing an old friend for the first time in years become a massive asshole. In fact, that's exactly what it was. You didn't want to hate him because you used to be so close… but you did. Even so, looking at him and thinking of his death made you sad, because when he died you still cried at his funeral and you still cared for him, despite not talking for years. Seeing him now made you feel a mixture of so many emotions you didn't even know where to start, which just added fuel to your fire.

He paused, stoic in his disposition.

"You better get to your cage." he said, flatly.

"No." you said. "I'm not going anywhere."  
"Look, Birdy, it's not your decision to make."  
"I'm not getting back in that stupid cage!" you stood, indignant, as did Pan.  
"What are you going to do about it? Burn me again?" he chuckled. He edged closer to you.  
You couldn't stop yourself; you slapped him as hard as you could.  
"Don't come one step closer to me!" you exclaimed. "I am not going back into another cage."

He seized you by the arms and pulled you close to him, however this wasn't a playful closeness like it was before. He was angry this time. His nose was touching yours, and his forehead was so close to doing the same.

"I don't think you have a _choice._ "

"I'm not going anywhere." you repeated.  
He yanked you and dragged you, you trying to pull away from him as you did before.  
Fed up, he threw you to the ground, pinning your arms down with his knees and holding the blade of his dagger against your throat. His face was illuminated by the flames, shadows cast on the side the light didn't reach.

"You need to remember that you're mine now."

You could hear venom in every word he hissed at you, poison that intoxicated your veins, your lungs, your chest, forming knots in your stomach and heat at your fingertips.  
He drove you crazy, and you hated him for it.


	6. Chapter 6

The cage he dragged you to was larger than the last one, but not by too much. It was close enough to the camp that you could see it, however it was also easily concealed.

That entire night, you thought about a lot of things.  
You could see the campfire burnt out, down to ashes, and the dull moon. It was not as bright as the night before, so everything was darker, but you could still see.  
The main matter plaguing your mind was Peter. He made your blood boil. The more you thought about him and focused on the fire, it began to burn low. He filled you with rage to the point where you couldn't stand it. You hated everything about him – the green eyes that could be cold as ice and hot as fire depending on how he desired them to be, the way he raised his eyebrows at you, the arrogant gestures, the narcissism, the cockiness, the way he whispered in your ear, the way he raised his hands and laughed conceitedly, the smug expressions, the pompous, insolent personality, the way "remember that you're mine" wouldn't stop repeating in your head, the way he made your heart beat faster and your stomach turn and the way you couldn't understand how you felt about it, about _him_ , which made you sick to your stomach. The way you wanted to kiss him, to kill him.  
The fire was growing taller with each passing breath.  
One thing you learned in psychology was hatred is one of the only emotions close to love— they both burn, they both fill a person with desire – however in different ways, they both could drive people absolutely crazy, they can blind a person, and they both involve the same amount of passion.  
But you didn't love Peter. You couldn't. You weren't blind — he was self-important, he was terrible, and your attraction to him made you sick.  
At the same time, the more you thought about him, the more he drove you insane. He called you his, made out you belonged to him. _You hated him_. He confused you, captivated you. He made your stomach drop and your chest twist. He made the blood in your veins boil and rush to your hands and _burn_. The fire was ferocious at this point. Sparks flew at all angles and the air was heated, humid and smokey, and your face reddened even more than it already had, and a sick part of your brain was telling you the air _wasn't hot enough_.  
He made you burn. He made you explode. He made you erupt.

You tried to breathe and focused enough to quench the fire. Your breaths were heavy and shaky, and your face was covered in a cold sweat. The smell of smoke and wood filled your lungs, and it smelled like he did, and you wanted to cough it all out and breathe it all in at the same time. You ran your shaky hands through your hair and focused on the ground. The air around you was less humid; it was crisp and cold, and the dull moonlight had brightened up enough to illuminate the ground in an icy, pale white. You looked down at your clammy hands, also covered in a cold sweat.  
He was ruining you.  
He was destroying you.  
And you couldn't get enough of him.


	7. Chapter 7

You spent the rest of that night worrying about the others — you couldn't even believe you'd let your thoughts slip to Pan for even a moment. 

You were selfish. How could you have not have thought of them because you were too entranced by Pan? It was ridiculous.

Speaking of Pan, the boy himself strolled into the clearing with Felix and you scrambled to your knees, looking through the cracks in the cage.

"Make sure you deal with it." you heard Pan say. Felix left, cloak lifting in the wind, whilst Peter turned his attention to you, walking towards the cage.

"Peter, what have you done to them?" you demanded. You were in no mood for any of his games.  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Wendy-bird."  
"Pan, I am in no mood for your games. Tell me what you've done to Emma and Neal and Regina and David and Mary Margaret!"

He crouched in front of the cage and smirked. "I don't have to tell you anything."  
The things you would have done if your hands weren't bound.

He got up and began to walk away.

"Please!" you shouted. He stopped in his tracks and turned.  
"They're safe." he said. "For now."  
He was winding you up and you knew it, yet you couldn't keep your temper in check.  
"Don't you dare lay a finger on them! You let them go!"

You knew it was risky to try and protect some people you hardly knew — but still, they saved you and you just couldn't help it.

He turned on his heel and strolled back to the cage.

"I don't think you're in any position to tell me what to do, Birdy."  
"Pan, they have nothing for you. Just let them go!"  
"We both know what they're planning."  
You stopped. How did he know?  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Sure." he sniggered.  
"Peter, please."  
"Why don't you make me?"

You were livid. You wanted to hit him. He was so sickeningly arrogant.

"Why don't you tell me your name, first?" he said.  
"Why do you need to know my name?"  
"Why do you need me to let your friends go?"

You sighed.

"What does my name have to do with anything?"  
"I want to make this a little more… personal. I can't be your friend if you won't tell me your name."  
"Why would I ever want to be your friend?"  
"Come on, Wendy-bird, that's just rude, isn't it?"  
"You know you're meant to care about your friends? I hear you don't care about anybody."  
He sniggered and began to open the cage.

"What, are you letting me go?" you said, sarcastically.  
"You can't keep a bird in their cage for too long."  
You rolled your eyes.

You sat down on one of the logs and struck your hand over a pile of wood, lighting a fire.  
"That's wrong, though. How you don't care about anybody."  
He laughed. "Oh, really?"  
"What was her name again, Peter?"  
He sniggered, but you could hear worry tiptoeing in underneath it. "What?"  
"Wendy, was it?"  
He paused for a moment, however he quickly covered it with a "Who's Wendy?", but it was too late.  
You got up and began to walk towards him. "Don't even pretend to not know who she is, Peter, because your pupils dilated and you paused and you _cared_ about her, and I know you did. Wendy Darling. Why else would you call your prisoners 'Wendy-bird'?"  
He looked at you, subtle shock laying as an undertone in his expression.  
"How do you know that?" he asked.  
"I told you, I know a lot of things." you began to walk away, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.  
"I said, _how do you know that_?"  
"Because I _am_ Wendy, you idiot!"  
He looked alarmed for a moment before smirking darkly.  
"I knew it."  
"What?" you said. His grip tightened on your arm and he stepped closer to you.  
"From the moment you reacted when I first called you 'Wendy-bird', I had my suspicions."  
His eyes, intense and alive, threatened yours. He backed you into a tree.  
"Well, doesn't this make things more interesting, _Wendy?_ " he spat your name as if it was a swear. His fingers were digging into your arm, hurting you, and for the first time, he was scaring you.  
"Peter…" you begged, trying to pull away. He grabbed your hair with his free hand and pushed you back into the tree.  
"It's a whole new ball game now, isn't it, Wendy? I've missed you." he chuckled. "Why are you here?"  
"I don't know."  
"What do you _want_?"  
"Pandora's Box."  
" _Really? _" he exclaimed in faux-shock, mocking you. "You know, that belongs to me."__  
"No it doesn't."  
"You know what they say: finder's keepers."  
You grimaced as his grip on your hair tightened.  
"Tell you what." he hissed. You could hear the almost sadistic pleasure in his voice. "I'll give you the box, and I'll allow you to leave the island… but you need my permission first."  
"And how do I do that?" your eyes had now focused on another point— anywhere other than Pan's eyes.  
"We'll just have to see, won't we." he looked you up and down, his aim to intimidate you, but you could tell he meant something more with the gesture.  
"Peter, I'm not going to…" you trailed off, uncomfortable. He just laughed, moving even closer to you so his mouth was close to your ear.  
"I'm not going to have sex with you, Wendy."

__You could hear how pleased he was with himself in his voice. He released his grip on your arm and your hair. You waited for him to turn before grabbing his wrist with one hand and his neck with the other, turning around and pushing him into the tree, making sure to burn him on the way. You heard his grunt of pain in the rushed flurry of movement, however you felt his hand at the roots of your hair again and one at your shoulder, slamming you into the tree and winding you. Tears caused by the impact began to sting your eyes and you began to blink them away._ _

__"Did nobody tell you that you have to behave to get what you want?"_ _


End file.
